May 11th, 2018

Here's a tip.  If, for some reason, you ever decide that you want to live in Florida, there are two things that you absolutely positively have to make certain that you have.  The first is a really good air conditioner.  The second is a de-humidifier.

​We arranged for a  brand new whoopdidoo fancy schmancy big time air conditioner before we ever moved into the house.  It. Is. Awesome.  In the middle of August when being outside makes you feel as if you are melting, coming back into the house is like entering a deep cavern. Cool, comfortable and calming.  The de-humidifier we bought about a month later when it became apparent that  the air conditioner alone was not sufficient to combat the amount of humidity in the Florida summer air.  In August you can practically drink the air.  Perhaps fine for a greenhouse, not great for anything else.  As soon as the dehumidifier was in place, I could  feel of the air in the house softening.  It went from a slap to a gentle caress.  It's hard to describe.  Bonus points, towels actually dried instead of being forever damp and smelling like a middle school boy's gym locker room. (shudder)

​So merrily we rolled along through all of the seasons for nearly two years now.   Until this week.  Monday Tim left for 4 days in Arizona.  The temperature there was predicted to be over 100 in AZ all week.  Of course it's a dry heat but still, 106 is hot.   Much milder here by comparison, a Floridian 88, was just summery.  Especially when you are outside where there is a bit of that lovely island sea breeze.  88 in May in Florida?  No big deal at all. 

​So Tim is gone and I'm doing the stuff I do, laundry, cleaning, yard work blah de blah and about mid-day I realize that even though I'm in the house, I'm uncomfortably warm.  Unusual.  Especially for me.  I tolerate heat far better than most people.  But I had just come in from doing a few things in the yard, followed by a nice long walk and instead of walking into the lovely wall of coolness, I walked into stuffy and warm.  How Odd.

​I checked the digital readout for the HVAC system and it said......nothing.  What?  Shouldn't there be numbers on here? Hmmmmm.

I'm not certain why we have it, but there is a digital thermometer and humidity register on top of the display cabinet in the living room.  It said it was 88 degrees in the house. Okay. I know that's not right.  I wondered what I should do.  Generally when mechanical sorts of things go wrong, the fix is something simple and easy and Tim just walks over and kind of does a mystical laying on of hands and it's fixed.  But here is not here.

​I am reluctant to fiddle with anything mechanical, as I have no talent for it.  But I hesitantly pushed a few buttons and gave the unit a gentle smack. Neither of those things worked.  I went into the utility room and starred at the fuse box for awhile blankly.  It looked the way it always looks and nothing leaped out and me and said, "Here!  It's me! I'm the problem!" so I closed the door and kind of shrugged.

​I knew that I would be talking to Tim Monday night once he got settled in, so I decided that 88 degrees wasn't going to kill me.   And I went on to the next thing on my list.  And then, without any warning, the house became cool again.  What?  I checked the readout again.  It's back on!  Wow!  Must have been a mechanical burp. About an hour later, it went back off. Dang.  This became the pattern.  On for a short time, off for a long time. Weird.

​When I talked to Tim about it that night, he wondered was it this or was it that?  He suggested that I  could check the thingie or the whatsitcalled.  Seriously?  Ok I'm game. And I tried as he talked me through things.  No success.  He fretted on my behalf.  "You know what sweetie", I said finally,  "It's back on now. It's probably fine.  And it's not going to kill me in any event.  We will deal with it when you get back home". Tim told me to call the repair guys but I reasoned that if this was something that Tim could fix, for free, why should I pay a repair guy.   I reassured him several times that I was sure and after we hung up, immediately it turned itself back off again.  Of course.

​This was the pattern throughout the week.  I made cookies, scrubbed floors and washed windows while the AC was on and did slower moving less sweat related things like catching up on correspondence and reading when it was not. I got pretty good at it too.  And so that was the week.  Hot interspersed with moments of coolness.

​Tim got home last night.  He did his mystical laying on of hands and, to my shock, it did not work.  What?  The world has gone mad.  Tim can almost always fix stuff.  But this time, his magic had pooped out.  Dang.  

​He called the repair guys.  They were here this morning and I'm happy to say that the AC is now reliably working again.  The house is once again a cool refuge and all is well with the world once again.

​Now that it's cool again and I can think straight once more, there is just one thought that keeps popping through my mind, "How on earth did the pioneers live here?" 

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